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If you subscribe to us, you'll get ticket offers, free song downloads, exclusive content, undying love, and Jonny & Paddy's monthly thought essay. It's a good thing.

Here is an extract from our latest one so you get an idea of what these essays entail:

"My first thought was ‘how ironic’. How ironic that at a time of a global pandemic, I go and get the bloody flu. Typical. I’ve been ill so much the last few months. I’ve been ill for more than 80 days out of the last 200. We’ve had to cancel so many shows. I’m so sick of being ill. And here I am, sick again.

My next thought is ‘how bloody typical my flu symptoms are just like the coronavirus symptoms’. I get the stupid flu and it’s just like the pandemic illness. That’s so annoying. I’ve got a high-fever and it’s just so irritating. Just my bloody luck.

Then my third thought, a day later, is hard to put into words. Totally incomprehensible. Because it’s the start of eight days of high-fever induced delirium and madness. I can’t get out of bed, I’m so freezing cold, until I’m boiling hot. I have a very long argument with a bath-towel, convinced it’s Josie dressed as a bath-towel. I don’t even win the argument. Typical.

It’s mind-numbingly annoying that this flu is such an unusual flu. But, after eight days of solid fever, I’m suddenly a lot better. Except I’ve randomly got a severe hacking cough and breathing difficulties. Great, I’ve got bronchitis straight after the flu. Josie suggests for the first time that it’s possible I might just have the coronavirus. That’s ridiculous. I don’t have the coronavirus. I have the flu and bronchitis. Also, I’m not taking medical advice from a bath-towel.

After six days in bed, compulsively coughing and not properly breathing, I ring 111. “You really should have listened to the bath-towel” they say. I’m annoyed. I ask if there’s anything I get for having it and surviving, like a prize or a free gift? They don’t seem to follow and quickly hang up. There are no t-shirts or medals for survivors it seems. Typical. Bloody Britain.

A week on, I’m symptomless and weak but basically healthy. Cough is gone. Fever-madness nowhere to be seen. I’m breathing normally again. So, I survived the coronavirus. The lockdown hasn’t even begun yet and I’ve already had it, lived it and fought it off. I think this means I’m immune now. I could go out into the world and help. For the first time in my life I could be a useful member of society. I ring 111 again to offer my services but it’s engaged. When I finally get through they say the wait time to talk to someone is three hours. I hang up. I’m willing to help, but not that much. 

The bath-towel comes into our room and lies down. “I think I’ve got a cough” she says. Typical.

Go on. Give us a go.

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